User blog comment:Bartholomew Billberry Bowstring/The Wrath of Gormad Tunn/@comment-25220117-20130808131316

''The sun begins its slow rise above the clouds, slashing the sky with red and purple scars. For most beasts, the day had just begun. But for the greater beings known as Rapscallions, it had already long been used.''

''They sailed the seas in mighty ships of oak and pine carved from the trees of their homeland, and rowed by slaves from across the sea, and when those slaves finally caught sight of Mossflower shores once more, they cursed the day it was created. It was too beautiful, too peaceful, too dreamlike through that morning fog. It didn't deserve what was sure to come. Gormad Tunn was like Chaos incarnate. Anything he left, if he left anything at all, was ruins.''

''On the thirteenth month since they had set sail from the Northlands, the Rapscallions docked ship and moved onto the shore, setting up camp using wood and sail from the wreck of one of the ships of their comrades that hadn't made it to this new world. Any slaves that still were well enough to pull oars were left onboard with skeleton crews. Any remaining were slaughtered, the first blood to be shed that day.''

''Cutthroat and a pawfull of other low-ranking fighters had been gathered that day to hunt meat, be it birdflesh from the forest or fish from the seas. And treading through the sand and into the thick woods near the beach, that's exactly what they were about to do.''